His Perfect Happiness
by iiNeaPoliTan
Summary: On a warm spring night, Hashirama contemplates his perfect happiness, the beautiful raven haired man lying next to him in bed. HashiMada FLUFF


**I'm new to the HashiMada fandom, but, my gosh, am I addicted. It's like "HashiMada, where have you been all my live?"**

**I disown. Hashirama and Madara, in all their glory, belong to Mr. **_**Troller **_**Kishi. **

It was a warm spring night. The stillness of the room, the silence of the night, and the gentle breathing of the person sleeping next to him betrayed the strenuous activities that had transpired in that very bed a few hours earlier. But one look at the scattered and possibly ripped clothing carelessly thrown about, the shattered lamp by the door that had accidently been knocked over due to his eagerness to undress his partner, the deep, still stinging nail marks running down his back which he'd wear with pride till they faded and the rich purple love bites decorating the others porcelain skin would more than prove the romantic, love-lust filled night both had shared.

Hashirama sighed in perfect happiness because really, that's what this was. This was his perfect happiness. Peace was no longer an illusion shared by two naïve kids, but rather a possibility shared by many, if not all. The village both had envisioned so many years ago was almost complete; several clans had already started sending peace treaties and permission to be accepted into their little safe haven. Yes. This was Hashirama's happiness, but what made it his _perfect_ happiness was the beautiful raven haired man lying next to him.

He rolled on his side to face the other directly. He couldn't help but smile as he stared at the godly creation next to him. Madara was on his stomach facing him, his hands were entwined under his cheek, being used as a pillow, his mouth was slightly ajar as soft little snores escaped his lips, and his raven hair was cascading around him, framing his face and doing nothing but adding adorableness to him. Hashirama suppressed a chuckle as he though this. No doubt, where he ever to voice out loud that Madara Uchiha was cute, he would end up being burnt to a crisp.

Madara's bare back seemed to glisten in the moonlight, like it was calling forth to Hashirama, begging him to touch it, to kiss it, to further mark it, to mark Madara as his and his alone. Too weak to resist, and truthfully, not wanting to resist, Hashirama reach over with his right hand and grazed Madara's white skin with the tips of his fingers. He couldn't help but notice the stark difference between their skin tones. Madara's skin had a creamy paleness to it; it reminded Hashirama of clouds for reasons unknown to him. His own skin was an earthy tone. He couldn't help but find humor in these comparisons. Madara was the clouds in the sky while he was the earth in the ground. Two entities separated at creation, never meant to touch, and yet, here they were.

His fingers grazed through a particularly large scar and guilt coursed through Hashirama. This scar tainting Madara's otherwise flawless beauty was his doing; it was his fault it existed. That scar was the outcome of their last battle. Hashirama pierced Madara's shoulder blade; an attack precisely calculated to not kill the other, but to render him immobile. Of course, had it not been for that attack, the two wouldn't be the here today; the village and the peace treaty wouldn't be here today. Still, whenever he laid eyes on it, the guilt didn't lessen.

Hashirama leaned over to Madara and hovered over the sleeping man. He stared at the scar and the scar stared back at him, almost mockingly. After a few seconds, he leaned down and began licking at the offensive flesh. He ran his tongue throughout the length of the scar before bringing his lips together giving it open mouth kisses, like if expecting his loving affection would make it disappear. He lavished in the taste of Madara as he gently grazed his teeth over the sensitive skin leaving behind a trail of his warm saliva.

"Mmm… Hashi?" Madara began to stir awake. He let out a small yawn, almost like a mewl. "Hashi?" The way his lover said his name made him forget about the insulting scar as his new objective was to hear Madara calling to him uncontrollably.

Hashirama's lips found Madara's ear hidden under onyx tresses and whispered, "What is it, love?"

His husky voice sent shivers down Madara's spine. Feeling his lovers reaction, Hashirama smirk before taking the others warm earlobe in between his teeth and gently tugging at it.

"Ahh…" Madara's sleepy moan sent shivers of pleasure throughout Hashirama's body. "Hashi…" Hashirama loved it when Madara woke up like this. In between sleep and awareness laid an uncharacteristically submissive and responsive Madara and Hashirama just adored it. He gave the earlobe gentle sucks, feeling as Madara's warm body continued to heat up.

"Yes?" Hashirama asked again as he trailed butterfly kisses on Madara's shoulder until he reached the nape of his neck and settled for leaving a subtle love mark there.

"What- hhaah… are you doing? Hmm… ahh..haahh… you freak." The noises escaping Madara's lips entered through Hashirama's ears, but it was his manhood processing them.

"What do you think I'm doing, Madara?" As he said this, he centered his half hardened manhood between Madara's ass and gave a few gentle thrusting motions; the friction doing wonders for him. "Mmm.."

In between soft pants and whispered moans, Madara said, "I don't want to, you damn Senju." Hashirama smirked at Madara's insult. The uncharacteristically submissive and responsive Madara was becoming more aware now; as much as he loved when Madara was in that state, nothing beat his Uchiha lover when he was fully himself.

"I beg a differ." He continued a slow, rhythmical thrusting motion to his hips, grinding against Madara.

"Senju," Madara tried sounding menacing, but the small whimper that followed sounded anything but. "Mmm… try… try been at the receiving once in a while."

"Hmm. You seem to enjoy having me in control, love."

"Shut up." Madara tilted his head and a strand of hair fell on his face, no doubt hiding an embarrassed blush.

Hashirama chuckled heartedly. He was the only one to ever see and have the great Madara Uchiha like this and it filled him with pride. Madara Uchiha was his and no one else's. He truly and deeply loved this man.

"What's so funny?" Madara propped himself on his elbows and turned his face to look up at the man on top of him, an annoyed pout on his lips.

"I was just thinking of how much I love you." Hashirama replied as he pushed himself a bit forward and gave the pouting lips a quick peck.

"You're so cheesy, Hashirama. You should feel bad for how cheesy you are."

Hashirama smiled down at the Uchiha. "But you love me." He quickly kissed the others nose.

"Hmm… I guess you're right." Although Hashirama would have been ecstatic to hear Madara say the words 'I love you too', he knew the Uchiha would never be comfortable saying such things and this was the closest he'd ever get to it, so, with that in mind, his smile grew wider as he rubbed their noses together.

"Cheesy and worse than a teenage girl." Madara teased as his nose was assaulted with Hashirama's. "Honestly, I don't see how you manage to always come out on top, Senju Hashirama."

With surprising speed, Madara felt himself being flipped over and lying on his back. Hashirama leaned into his ear and whispered, "Let me remind you why I always come out on top, Uchiha Madara."

He attacked Madara's neck with nibbling kisses and tickled his sides. Madara, though he hated to admit it and desperately tried to deny it, was ticklish and as his lovers expert fingers and teasing lips assaulted each and every one of his weak points, his composition betrayed him, like it always did, and he found himself laughing with pure glee.

As Hashirama heard his lover's carefree laughter, one only he had the pleasure of hearing, one that belonged to him and him alone, he had to admit, he was the luckiest man alive. Yes, this village, this man, all of this was his perfect happiness.

Hashirama was sure that, where he ever to lose his perfect happiness, he would lose himself as well…


End file.
